


Papi

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Daddy Kink, Feminization, M/M, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Tony's Jealous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Oh, princess, I don’t think you’ve earned the right to call me daddy yet."





	Papi

Tony had heard the whispers going through his board of directors, a pretty young thing working their way through on member at a time. Pepper had brought it up with him, they’d talked, decided they weren’t really going to pry. As long as they weren’t giving him any trouble he didn’t really give a shit, and he was still pretty fucked up over everything that had happened with Peter a few weeks ago.

The boy had showed up at the lab looking like the prettiest fucking snack Tony had ever seen. His bottom half had looked gorgeous, red heels with ties that created the most beautiful contrast as they ran up the creamy flesh of the boy’s calves, bare from the knee up until the black leather shorts that covered almost nothing of the porcelain skin of his thighs, but its when Tony’s leer had made it past Peter’s waist that he’d promptly choked. Because security clearance allowed Peter full access to the upper levels of Stark Tower,  he’d clearly decided to make a quick stop by the penthouse, and was currently draped in one of Tony’s shirts, mostly unbuttoned, the neck of the shirt gaping open to reveal sharp collarbones and pale, unmarked length of the teen’s neck.

Tony had been at a complete loss for words, gaping like a fish and utterly speechless, but from the coy, almost proud look on Peter’s face Tony didn’t think the kid minded. The boy had _strutted_ over to his chair like he was walking down a fucking runway, straddling his thighs and delicately placing himself in Tony’s lap before the man could even draw a breath. He’d been forced to arch his neck against the back of the chair as Peter had leaned over him, neither of them daring to break the silence of the moment. The teen’s lip had been in his mouth since he entered the room and unbidden, Tony’s thumb had moved to pull Peter’s full bottom lip from between his teeth. He hadn’t expected for the boy to suck the digit into his mouth, swirl his tongue around the pad and scrape his teeth across the tip.

And then Peter had spoken. “Oh, Mr. Stark, kiss me, _please_.” Tony had been out of his chair and across the room in a few seconds, the boy still in front of the chair, a bewildered look painted across his face. Self-loathing and a healthy dose of guilt had fueled his rejection, but he’d been unwilling to admit to Peter just how absolutely terrified he was of possible ruining his life. He was young, he didn’t need to deal with an old man’s panic attacks, nightmares, and crippling anxiety. Instead he’d fed Peter some bullshit about being too young for him (he wasn’t) and how he needed to be with someone his age (despite the fact that Tony was wiling to give him the world). The teen had looked devastated, but had _obviously_ been more than respectful of his wishes, had left with rushed apologies of “I’m so sorry Mr. Stark” and “I hope this doesn’t change anything, I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable” and Tony had felt like an even bigger asshole as he had rushed to comfort the boy, after making him feel guilty by feeding him a pack of lies, all while trying to hide the erection tenting the front of his pants.

Peter had left and had come back to the lab the next day, and they’d acted like nothing and happened, hadn’t spoken of that moment since. But the mental image has already done it’s job, and Tony’s at half-mast in his pants already, and overnight all the directors on his board have turned into idiots, and he abruptly calls the meeting to a close. Everyone clears out without a word, the irritation clear enough in his tone that no on e wants to argue. He takes a fortifying breath, trying to rid himself of the bulge in his pants because the last thing he wants is to scandalise an intern on the way out.

When he feels sufficiently centered and soft, he walks out of the board room, preparing to walk to the elevators when he hears muffled whispers from the darkened hallway next to the room that leads to the stairwell. He walks toward the entrance of the hallway, intending only to take a quick peek to make sure no one’s up here that shouldn’t be before making a quick escape, but he’s frozen by the sight before him.

Because one of his (soon to be ex-) directors has a body pressed up against the wall, and Tony would have no idea who it was, but the _Papi_ falling from the boy’s lips tells him exactly who it is, because he would know that voice anywhere. Part of him wants to march over to guy and punch him directly in the face for daring to lay a hand on _his_ Peter, but the other part of him can’t even move, because it’s all falling into place. The pretty young thing that’s been making their way through his board, going from member to member, fucking them to within an inch of their pathetic lives before moving on to their next mark, has been Peter. _fucking_. Parker.

He’s still standing at the opening of the hallway, knowing he should move but unable to do so when he sees Peter look up, and _God_ he could’ve never prepared for what comes next. Because Peter pulls way from the man’s mouth to mouth along his jaw, biting lightly on his ear before whispering, loud enough for Tony to hear, “I need you, papi. _Fuck me,_ papi, _please_.”

The man’s reply is lost as Tony stalks toward pair. He doesn’t stop to gauge the man’s reaction, shoving him away with a push to the shoulder and grabbing Peter’s wrist, wrenching the boy along with him towards the elevators. He doesn’t deign the man’s “what the _fuck_ , Stark,” with a response, and the boy at his side is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He presses the button to call the elevator, and the doors open immediately. He pushes the teen in front of him, barely able to tell FRIDAY to take them to his penthouse, jaw clenched so hard he’s sure he could break a bone.

For a few seconds the only thing louder than the elevator music is Tony’s harsh breathing. He can’t look at the boy, knows if he looks at him that he won’t be able to hold himself back, and he wants to try at least. But then Peter’s canting his hips forward and humping thin air, a whimpered _“_ Mr. Stark, _please_ ,” falling from his lips, and he only has a few seconds before Tony’s grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him into the elevator wall.

He fists the hair at the nape of the boy’s tongue before pulling him into a kiss that’s the furthest from gentle. There’s no finesse as he’s crudely shoving his tongue into Peter’s mouth, sucking the teen’s lower lip into his mouth and biting hard enough to draw blood. Tony grabs the teen’s globes of the teens ass, kneading him through his jeans while also pulling him forward, and Peter gets the message, wrapping his legs around the older man’s waist.

Tony grinds his hips forward, biting and sucking on the exposed length of the boy’s neck as Peter throws his head back, a high pitched moan escaping his mouth at the friction. The elevator doors open, and Tony drops Peter, walking out of the elevator. He doesn’t even need to check to see if the boy is following, knows he is. He walks over to where he last left his bottle of scotch, pouring a liberal amount before turning around to face the teen, who has lost some of his bravado, and is standing in the middle of the room with a nervous look on his face, chewing incessantly at his bottom lip.

“Pull your lip out of your mouth, or this is going to be over before it’s even started.” Peter hurriedly releases it, the low and gravelly quality of the older man’s voice sending a shiver down his spine. Tony says, “follow me,” before walking down the hallway, and Peter almost trips over his own feet in his eagerness to comply. His sharp inhale upon realizing that they’re going into the man’s bedroom does not go unnoticed, and Tony shoots him a predatory grin over his shoulder that has Peter’s dick getting impossibly harder in his pants.

They enter the room and Tony heads over to an arm chair, slipping off his tie and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt before taking a seat. Peter hovers in the middle of the room, unsure what Tony wants him to do. “Take a seat, sweetheart.” The pet name sends his heart rate skyrocketing, and he knows he’s blushing harder, but he’s helpless in the face of the man’s sexiness. When he moves over to the arm chair opposite, he hears a sharp, “where do you think you’re going?”

Peter pauses immediately, voice uncertain as he replies, “uhm, you said to, uh, sit? So I was going to ah, s-sit.”

“Aw, sweetheart… what makes you think you’re good enough for my furniture? Right here on the floor by my feet will be just fine.” _Fuck_ , the way Peter folds, falling to his knees so gracefully, could have Tony coming in his pants right there.

He hooks a finger under the boy’s chin, forcing him to look up and into his eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, content to stare and map the features of the teen’s face until Peter’s squirming uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Tony moves back to lean in the chair, but the boy stays in place, not moving a muscle, and Christ, that only turns him on more,

“So sweetheart, you’re the one that’s been making his way steadily through my board of directors? Spreading your legs for any old man that looks your way?”

Peter shifts uncomfortably again, a minute shake of his head the inly response he offers. The arch of Tony’s brow tells him the answer isn’t good enough, so he answers with a soft, “yes, sir.”

“Hmm… and how long ahs this been going on, angel?” Tony doesn’t try to hide his smirk at the audible hitch in Peter’s breath.

“A few weeks, sir.”

“And did I hear you call one of my directors _papi_ earlier?”

Peter’s gaze flinches, and he looks away from Tony’s eyes as he responds with a simple “yes, sir.”

Tony forcefully grabs the boy’s chin, turning his face around, adding harshly, “look at me when I’m fucking talking to you.” The small whimper that escapes the teen has a vicious smile crossing Tony’s face as he continues, “do you have daddy issues, baby? Need a big, strong man to take care of you, hm? Show you your place?” Peter keens high in his throat, his hips canting forward to hump against Tony’s shoe at the response. “Answer me, Petey.”

“Oh, daddy, _yes please_.” _Christ_ , the kid sounds so wrecked already, and it takes all of Tony’s willpower not to choke the boy on his cock right there. He was stupid enough to turn this down the first time, but he’s decided since that he’s already going to hell, might as well earn his place.

“Oh, princess, I don’t think you’ve earned the right to call me daddy yet. I’m still a little disappointed and hurt by your behaviour. Mr. Stark will do for now.” Peter’s eyes are glassy, a far away look that reminds Tony of his former subs. He continues, “well, strip for me baby girl. Show me what you’ve been whoring out to all those men when you’re needy for attention. _Impress_ me.”

Peter gets up, and Tony’s immensely pleased to see the boy’s knees are shaking already. It’s only then that he notices the boy’s outfit. A pair of short shorts has miles of pale leg on display, and Peter’s wearing a cropped top with one side falling off of his shoulder, wonderfully highlighting the dark bruises littered along his neck. He’s glad the boy’s face is covered with the top as he’s inching it over his head in an adorable attempt to be sexy, because Tony’s pretty sure he’s drooling.

Peter reaches to pull off his shorts next, but before he can Tony makes a slight twirling motion with his finger, rasping out, “turn around for me, sweetheart. Wanna see that pretty pussy of yours.” A sharp inhale is the only reaction he receives as the teen turns around, bending at the waist as he shimmies off his shorts, waving his ass enticingly. The shorts are finally to his ankles, and Peter shakes them off each foot before straightening.

“Oh, you dirty little slut. Can you imagine what people would say if they knew Tony Stark’s intern was walking around the Tower without underwear?” Smart boy offers nothing in response, and Tony waits to see if Peter remembers the other part of his command. When the boy makes no move to do what he asked, he growls out, “I think I asked you to do something for me, princess. Spread that ass so I can see just how loose your cunt is.”

Peter places his hands on cheek, spreading his ass. As the seconds tick by, his face gets hotter at the embarrassment of having the most intimate places of his body on display. Tony pops a finger into his mouth, wetting it slightly before reaching out and tracing the boy’s rim before slipping the finger in. “Oh, baby girl, your pussy’s gaping. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to feel it around my dick.” They both know it’s an outright lie; Tony can feel how tight Peter’s entrance is around his finger, and Peter feels the minute stretch even though the digit is barely up to the first knuckle.

But Peter’s getting off to the humiliation, and Tony can tell, so the boy just whimpers out, “’m s-sorry, Mr. Stark.”

Tony hums an acknowledgement, “oh, don’t worry slut, I’ll make you sorry. Lube’s over in that drawer.” He waves a hand dismissively in the general direction of the product, settling back in against the chair and schooling his expression into one of disinterest.

Peter straightens and scampers to the drawer, locating the bottle of lube amongst a sea of toys that make him lightheaded just looking at them. He shuts the drawer, turning around before pausing, unsure where Tony wants him. “Sorry, uhm, Mr. Stark? Wh-where should I uh, where did you- where did you want me?”

“The bed. Whore like you probably deserves the floor, but the carpet’s a little rough on my knees. Actually, could just have you on your knees, stretch those pretty pink lips around my cock.” Peter just squirms as Tony watches him, contemplating. He really wants to get fucked tonight, but keeps that to himself, he knows the older man isn’t looking for his input. Eventually Tony continues, “No, I have plans for you. Up on the bed.” Peter’s cock twitches at the threat in the words, precum beading at the tip as he imagines how Tony plans on using him.

He places the lube on the far side of the bed before settling back against the numerous pillows, awaiting his next command.

“All fours for me. That’s it, spread your legs now. Mhm, pour some lube onto your fingers.” At the last directive Peter hesitates, and Tony notices. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

Peter flushes as he answer, “my fingers, I don’t think they’ll be enough.”

“Oh? What do you suggest we do instead?”

“Could I have- I mean, would you use your fingers? To prep me, I mean.”

“My fingers? Oh, sweetie, you don’t _deserve_ my fingers, let alone my cock. But it’s been a while since I’ve gotten my dick wet, and you need to remember who that cunt belongs to. But you’ve been bad, baby girl, and you need to start making it up to me. Pour some lube, _now_ , or I’ll take you dry, slut.”

 _God_ , the degrading words, the dark tone, the hungry gaze, it all shouldn’t make Peter’s cock throb with need the way it does. He hastily grabs the bottle, intending to pour liberally because if the bulge in the man’s pants is anything to go by, Tony’s cock is much thicker than all his fingers combined. He only pours a small amount before the older man calls out, “enough. Now prep yourself for me, start with one finger, that’s it baby…”

Tony has Peter work his way up to four fingers, alternating between soft encouragements and sharp words as he talks him through it. Peter’s a whining mess as he works in the fourth finger, cock leaking steadily where it lays against his stomach, precum pooling under his navel. His eyes are screwed shut, tears trickling from the corners, nose scrunched and mouth open as he’s panting, and _fuck_ he could just eat this beautiful boy alive.

He tears his eyes away from the puffy pink of Peter’s hole, entranced as he was watching the bony fingers move in and out, when the boy pants out a simple, “ _please_.”

“Please what, princess?”

“They’re not enough, my fingers. Need more, need _oh_ , your cock, need _you_ , Mr. Stark. Please!” A high-pitched moan tears its way out of Peter’s throat, chest heaving with a barely suppressed sob as the teen twists his fingers, frantically trying to fuck them deeper and crying when he can’t. Tony palms himself, unable to suppress the arousal that floods through him at the sheer _desperation_ in the boy’s words.

“You just need that slutty cunt taken care of, hm? Need that pussy fucked and filled all the time? Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need, baby girl.” Tony unbuckles and pulls off his belt as he makes his way toward the bed, unzipping his slacks enough to pull his cock out. A thrill shoots through Peter at the sight of the man, fully dressed, looming over his naked body.

Tony gets on the bed behind the boy, pulling Peter’s hips toward him while placing a hand in the middle of his back and pushing his shoulders into the bed. “Push that ass out for me. That’s it, you can be such a good girl when you wanna be.” The condescension should be humiliating, but it just turns Peter on more, and he mewls into the pillow, fruitlessly thrusting his ass back into Tony’s crotch. 

Tony leaves a hand on the boy’s hip, pulling Peter’s wrist out of his hole and wiping the excess lube on the teen’s fingers onto his cock. He pauses just before entering him, lightly rubbing the head of his cock back and forth across the boy’s entrance. “Shit, I forgot to grab a condom, let me-“

Peter’s already shaking his head in denial, reaching to grasp Tony’s hand so he can’t pull away. “No condom, please Mr. Stark. Always used condoms with everyone else, got checked last week, ‘m clean I promise. Wanna feel you, raw me, Mr. Stark, take me bare, please.”

Tony growls, pushing in with one brutal thrust but stopping when he’s all the way in, letting out a long groan at the way Peter’s tight, wet heat surrounds him. He grinds in deep before pulling out achingly slow, and Peter can feel every ridge, every vein in Tony’s cock as he moves back out. The pace is agonizing, and it’s only a few thrusts before Peter’s sobbing again, trying to thrust his hips back to take Tony deeper. “Nuh uh, I set the pace, baby girl. This is _my_ pussy, and I’ll fuck it how I want to, understand?” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, angling the stroke to hits Peter’s prostate.

“ _Fuck_ , Mr. Stark, I understand, it’s yours, ‘m yours. Need you to fuck me harder, use me!” The answering growl he receives from the older man should scare him, but he’s more concerned with the fact that Tony’s pulling out. “N-no, please, sorry Mr. Sta-”

“Just turning you around, princess. Wanna watch you fall apart on my cock, want you to look at me and remember who ruined this cunt for anyone else.” He pushes back in, fucking Peter back and forth on his cock like a toy, angling each stroke to brush across the boy’s sweet spot. “That it, sweetie? That pounding hard enough for your hungry little hole?”

“ _Hngg_ , fuck me harder Mr. Starker, harder, harder, please!”

Tony moves his hips quicker, his balls slapping against the bottom of Peter’s ass each time he pushes all the way in. Peter’s cock is leaking steadily now, and he thinks that the boy’s close just as Peter says, “close, Mr. Stark, ‘m close. Wanna come, _ah_ , can I come, please?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Petey. You’ve been so naughty, spreading your legs for anyone who looks at you, letting other men fuck you, calling them daddy.” Tony doesn’t stop pounding

Peter shakes his head, barely able to form a coherent thought, but he manages to answer, because he needs Tony to know. “No, Mr. Stark, never daddy, _ugh_ , only ever papi.”

Tony slows down, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the only daddy ’ve ever wanted, never called anyone else daddy was s-saving it for you.”

“Oh, _sweetheart_. Fuck, yes, come for me. Stroke your little cock and paint yourself all pretty for me. Come for your daddy.”

Peter quickly wraps his hand around his cock, a few quick strokes and he’s releasing all over his chest with a wail, milky white ropes covering his quivering abs.

“Fuck princess, you just got so tight, your hole is milking my cock. Gonna come, wanna come inside you. That okay Petey? Can daddy come inside his baby girl, give this pussy what it needs?”

Peter keens high in his throat, cute little _ah, ah, ah’s_ falling from his lips as Tony fucks him through the aftershocks. “Oh yes daddy, give me your load. Cum inside me, wanna feel you dripping out of me, please, gimme your cum.”

It takes one, two more thrusts before Tony’s pushing all the way in, falling over Peter’s chest as he comes, shooting his cum deep inside the boy’s hole. He weakly grinds his hips forward, working through his aftershocks until he collapses, rolling over Peter’s body to land next to the boy. His chest is stick with Peter’s come, and he swipes a little off with his index finger, pushing the come into boy’s mouth, who licks it off eagerly. Tony can tell the boy is drifting off already, but he still catches it when he says “thank you, daddy. For making me yours.”

“Any time, my baby girl.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is starkerchemistry, come say hi! :)


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